


Something Like Love

by WhatButAVillain



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale does not love Crowley, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), He chooses him anyway, M/M, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), Unrequited Love, by having sex, they get married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatButAVillain/pseuds/WhatButAVillain
Summary: Aziraphale finds out how deeply Crowley loves him. Unfortunately he does not feel the same. He chooses to bind himself to him anyways.





	Something Like Love

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tadfield-Advertiser prompt: Crowley is terribly, desperately, irrevocably in love with Aziraphale. Aziraphale does not feel the same, but he learns the depth of Crowley's love for him and decides to bind himself to the demon in mind, body and soul anyway. (If he falls in love later too I'm okay with that, but I want Aziraphale to make the decision to be with Crowley forever, forsaking happiness with any others, while just loving him as a friend, not a lover.) Touch starved Crowley + fluff preferred but I realize this is a great opportunity for a hefty dose of angst and I'd be cool with that, too.
> 
> https://tadfield-advertiser.dreamwidth.org/517.html?thread=448517#cmt448517

It should have been obvious in hindsight. But to be fair, the looks Crowley would give him hadn’t much changed since The Garden only becoming much more frequent and soft as time went on. At least until he started covering his eyes with those ridiculous glasses. And the feeling of Love hadn’t gotten any stronger since the Garden either. Somehow it was not reassuring that the demon had loved him that long without pause or a reduction of his affections. No, it wasn’t reassuring at all at the moment. 

The moment being, standing in a ruined church after the demon had a bomb dropped on it. Granted it was to save Aziraphale himself but the point stands that he blew up a church. More importantly, he  _ saved _ the books. Aziraphale’s precious priceless books. He didn’t need to do that. It was a kindness beyond their Arrangement. After all the angel only had himself to blame for them being in danger in the first place. But Crowley. Had. Saved. Them. And oh it stung. Crowley cares about him. Him. Aziraphale. He did it to make him happy. No ulterior motives no way to twist it as some sort of temptation or demonic working. The church yes. The books no. This was purely for the angel’s benefit. 

For all that Aziraphale protested against the Arrangement and their friendship, he knew that is what any human would call it, he did enjoy the demon’s company but there were limits to his affection. He would be hard pressed to remember to save anything the demon valued were their roles reversed. If he knew of anything that Crowley cared for enough to be devastated at its loss, aside from-it seemed-himself. Crowley hadn’t paused an instant for the angel and knew him enough to know that the books were the special kind. The kind he had been collecting for years. All the way back to John and his Revelations. Further even. Prophecies. Aziraphale briefly wondered if any of them prophesized this. Crowley cared about him. Not the Arrangement and getting out of work but about the angel himself. 

He should have known. He really should have. He thought to himself as he picked his way through the rubble to where Crowley was standing holding a door open to a sleek car, waiting for him. “Thank you.” He said primly as he got into the miraculously untouched car.

“No problem, angel.” Crowley said closing the door, moving to the drivers side and getting in. And another spark of Love. The drive back to the bookshop is taken in silence where Aziraphale is too unsure of what to say or do in the wake of his revelation that he is scarcely breathing. When they return, Crowley again hops out before Aziraphale can make a move to get the door for him again. Aziraphale realized a little bit more the fact that Crowley cares deeply to make him happy.  _ For a friend, surely. The way he would for a friend if demons were capable of making friends _ . He’s always known Crowley made a very bad demon. His heart was too soft. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale muttered again getting out of the car. “I suppose I should get these books back inside. Don’t want to ruin all your good- well bad- work.” Aziraphale says distantly with just a touch of melancholy. 

“Come on angel. Anyone could have been fooled by those three. No need to look so glum about it.” Crowley reassured closing the door to the car behind Aziraphale. 

“Hm. Oh yes. I suppose so.” Aziraphale tried to smile for Crowley’s benefit. It seemed the right thing to do and even a small smile seemed to make the Love flare just a bit. Nodding slightly to Crowley he turned to make his way to the door of his shop. 

“See you around, Angel.” Crowley said before getting back in his car and driving away. Was that a hint of disappointment he heard? Well, he supposed he should have really offered to let him inside. Maybe ask after his feet. A friend would have done that right? Aziraphale sighed as he closed the door behind him and moved through the darkened shop to his desk. It was still lights out after all. 

Lighting a candle, he moved to put the case down on his desk and started to replace the books back in their places on his desk all in a row. With a sigh of frustration, he sat down at his desk and ran his hands through his hair. “Why did you have to do this, Crowley? It’s just making everything needlessly complicated.” He said aloud to the empty room.

It should have been obvious. Is what he was thinking now. Obvious _ . _ There was always an aura of Love around Crowley even though he was usually distracted with something else. 

The Eviction from the Garden, when the Affection first appeared, weak it’s true but the feeling was still there and shone so brightly. He is honestly surprised he missed it, looking back. But maybe not. The whole world and Garden was filled with ambient Love at that time. 

Then the Flood. Oh it was strong by then. Playful. When the demon had tapped his shoulder only to turn to find him behind his other shoulder. The Greeks may have even called it  _ ludus _ , a playful kind of love. At least until he had told him of God’s plan and the deaths of children. Then it was mixed with sorrow. Contrary to popular belief, angels could feel the negative emotions as well as demons did. All the better to know which humans were most in need of a miracle.

Golgotha they were both distracted and the Love from Jesus’ followers was weighing heavy on him. But Crowley, she seemed steeped in regret? Perhaps, but still a shining beacon of Love. 

Rome. When  _ he _ tempted the demon to lunch that feeling burst out like a supernova but he figured someone on the street had run into someone they knew. It wasn’t unusual to get strong bursts of Love. But, this had been stronger than he could remember ever feeling before. 

In Wessex it was still going strong after centuries apart but his offer seemed so self-serving it couldn’t be considered an offer at all. Their Arrangement or the first hint of what would come. Could it be just a reason to see him more often? 

Shakespeare. He saved the whole play. Made it go down in history as a masterpiece. Was that just for Aziraphale as well? Because he asked it? Not in so many words it is true but he had turned to him, hadn’t he? Hope shining forth in his own chest. Not strictly a miracle that Heaven would have necessarily cared for. 

By the time he got to remembering the Bastille, Aziraphale was shaking where he sat. The Bastille, Crowley had saved him from a very inconvenient discorporation. For crepes. He was almost discorporated for crepes. That would not have gone down well in Heaven not a bit. Crowley. Where had Crowley been and how had he known to come to his rescue? Even tonight. And the Love. Oh it burned so brightly when Crowley had literally stopped time to save him.

The Request that is still hanging over their heads and is why Aziraphale had been so surprised to see the demon tonight. The request for Holy Water. For what purpose? Insurance he said but in what way? A suicide pill as Aziraphale feared and still fears to this day? Or some other nefarious purpose? Is it considered nefarious to kill in self-defense? Aziraphale does not know. But even with harsh words and harsher looks, the demon’s Love had shone only with a nervousness and pain that he hadn’t picked up on then.

It is obvious, in hindsight how long Crowley has cared for him. Loved him even. But what does the demon expect from him in return is the question. Is he going to be content with friendship for the rest of time? Or does he want more? Some sort of physical relationship? These are questions he does not have an answer to. And truthfully, he is not sure if he wants them. It is going to be hard enough the next time Aziraphale sees him to act like everything is normal and not second guess his every word and gesture as he did tonight. 

Shaking, Aziraphale rises to his feet and breaks open one of his less opulent scotches. Tonight seems like a scotch sort of night. 

Time passes as it always has in the book shop, slowly and with great reluctance. Aziraphale has been a staple in Soho for centuries and people have a tendency to not watch their tongues around him so he hears when they start to wag. Someone is planning a theft. At a church. And that someone wears all black and sunglasses even at night.

Aziraphale knows instantly who and what this caper is about and it stops his heart for a moment. He may not know what to do about their relationship, or lack of one, but he can not allow Crowley to risk his very existence like that. This goes beyond asking for an insurance policy. This also goes beyond inconvenient discorporation. A single misstep by Crowley or, worse, the humans who don’t know how careful they must be and Crowley will be gone for good. A suicide pill indeed.

Working quickly, the meeting is tonight after all, Aziraphale gathers everything he needs to stop Crowley from putting his very life at risk. The only way it seems to stop him. Give him what he asked for. Crowley’s actions speak of desperation and Aziraphale feels the same way at the moment. The only thing he has on hand that can hold water, deadly acid, and protect the holder of said container is a tartan flask he uses for hot cocoa on long nights. Filling it nearly to the brim with water, Aziraphale carries it over to the table. A brief blessing and it’s done. Innocent water to everyone else, a death sentence to any demon, even the demon that he plans to give it to. He tightens the lid as tightly as possible and says a prayer. 

He has been wandering around the streets of Soho for hours by the time he spots Crowley’s car and it’s the same one that he had picked him up in at the church all those years ago. He stands on the street watching the car for another half an hour before he spots Crowley leaving the building and making for his car. As he is stopped to have a conversation with a young man, Aziraphale starts walking toward him. Crowley is about to open the car door when Aziraphale miracles himself into the passenger side of Crowley’s car. 

“Angel, what a surprise.” Crowley says, nonplussed at having the angel suddenly sitting beside him. “What are you doing here?” And the Love is nearly overpowering this close.

“I work in Soho I hear things. I hear you are setting up a caper. Crowley, you can’t. Holy water won’t just kill your body it will destroy you completely.” Aziraphale nearly begs the demon to reconsider just once more. This is what friends do. They worry for each other. 

“You told me what you think, angel, 105 years ago.”

“And I haven’t changed my mind. But a church and with humans is too dangerous. So,” He pauses to bring up the flask he has been carrying all night. “Here.” He finishes handing the container gently into Crowley’s hands. “Don’t go unscrewing the top.” He warns. 

“Are you sure?” Crowley asks and Aziraphale pauses. No he isn’t sure that he hasn’t just killed his friend but yes it’s the only way to keep him safe. Aziraphale nods. He was as sure as he can be. “Can I drop you anywhere?” Crowley asks again. 

_ He wants to spend more time with me. _ Aziraphale thinks. “No, I don’t think so.” Crowley’s disappointed look tears at something inside Aziraphale. He looks so forlorn almost like a kicked puppy as much as the demon would hate the analogy. His best friend, his only friend if he’s being honest, and he does try to be, is desperate for his affections as few and far between as they have been. Aziraphale’s heart melts just a little in sympathy at this demon who only has an angel to look to for any sort of companionship. “Don’t look so disappointed,” Aziraphale begs. “Perhaps someday we can, I don’t know, go on a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.” And it isn’t cruel to offer hope to the hopeless, is it? Hope is the business of an angel.

“Anywhere you want to go.” Crowley promises. 

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.” Much too fast and much too far. He gives Crowley one last look before the sad pout on the demon’s face tears a little bit more of Aziraphale’s heart to pieces. He can not give Crowley what he so desperately wants. Even if he wanted to, and he doesn’t know if he does. He leaves the car swiftly and makes his way back to the book shop. 

It was harder than he thought seeing Crowley again with his newfound knowledge of the demon in his head. But good also to see him even if for something so morbid as a way to kill himself,  _ or another demon _ , his mind whispers. And he does so hope it is intended for someone else. 

The knowledge that now Crowley has a way to permanently end his existence should he so desire it weighs heavy on Azirphale’s mind that night and for many nights after throughout the years to come. Aziraphale now feels responsible for the demon’s fate in a way he never had before. And the Revelation, as he has come to call his knowledge of Crowley’s true depth of affection for him, adds to that feeling. Should he rebuke Crowley too harshly, or at all, in his affections the demon may decide to use the holy water on himself and it would be doubly the angel’s fault for giving him the means and the desire. 

He does not avoid the demon per se but he does not seek him out. He allows Crowley to be the one to engage with him as he always has but when word reaches him from Gabriel that The End may be coming he considers for a moment whether he should contact Crowley, let him know that Heaven has received word of his actions. He does not but thankfully he does not have to. Crowley calls him. They arrange a time the next day to meet and Aziraphale is not looking forward to it. He has missed the demons odd companionship over the years but he still wonders how to interact with him now. What actions of his give the demon hope and which are seen in the innocent way they have always been intended? 

So they meet and they talk and Crowley takes him to lunch to repay him for France, nevermind that the crepes in France had been in repayment of a saved corporation, and then they talk and they drink and despite the overwhelming waves of Love and affection, Aziraphale can almost relax in regards to his actions towards the demon. After wine and a new agreement in regards to the antichrist, Crowley leaves and Aziraphale relaxes knowing that maybe nothing has to change. Crowley seems to be in no hurry to inform the angel of his affections and if Crowley isn’t saying anything then Aziraphale doesn’t have to worry about it. 

Being so close in the demon’s presence during Warlock’s formative years and their meetings to discuss his growth means he sees the demon almost everyday for the next eleven years. The sense of Love that follows him around during that time is almost too much to bear. It’s both easy and incredibly difficult to learn to block it out. When the Apocalypse starts in earnest, he panics. It isn’t so easy to provide Crowley with hope to not use the holy water still in his possession any longer. 

“We can go off together.” Crowley says and Aziraphale thinks this may be it, the time when Crowley admits his feelings and Aziraphale must let him down. 

“Go off together?” Aziraphale repeats breathlessly.  _ Don’t make me say it. _ He thinks. But he does. He breaks the Arrangement and sides with Heaven. “There is no our side. It’s over.” And why does it sound so much like a break up? Aziraphale thinks that Crowley may cry the way the Love is throbbing with sorrow and pain. When he finally turns away, Aziraphale lets his lip tremble just a moment before walking away from his friend. His ex-friend. Praying to a God that Crowley would insist isn’t listening that he hasn’t just murdered the demon.

He is walking through Soho thinking of ways that he can try to get through to someone, anyone, to stop this whole thing in its tracks. When Crowley pulls up again, he feels a frisson of fear intermingled with the Love but never has the Love wavered. Even after his harsh words this silly demon still Loves him.

Once more the words leave the demon’s lips. “We can run away together. Alpha Centauri.” Run away together. And once again Aziraphale can’t. He realizes that he can only talk to God to stop this and he can’t leave the Earth for Crowley. He doesn’t Love Crowley the way the demon Loves him. He may enjoy the demon’s company and even consider him a friend but he can’t give up everything for him. But he can give Crowley hope once more. Hope for the hopeless. “I forgive you.”  _ You consider yourself unforgivable. I defy that. I forgive you for what you’ve said and what you’ve done. _ Crowley storms off once again in a huff but Aziraphale has a plan. One that he hopes will work for Crowley’s sake, for Earth’s sake. 

Being pinned to the wall by the archangels stings. They do not feel like Love. They feel like disappointment and anger. They call Crowley his boyfriend and while Aziraphale is not sure what they are, he doesn’t think they qualify as that.

When Heaven proves itself indifferent to the humans suffering in the Metatron’s words of war, he realizes he couldn’t leave the Earth for Crowley but he will save it with him. Their own side indeed. He doesn’t need to Love Crowley to choose him. It would perhaps have helped. Or perhaps not. He has always owed his allegiance to Heaven, no not to Heaven, to God. And this can’t be a part of Her Plan. She loves the humans. No. He will tell Crowley what he has learned and they will come up with a plan. It may mean killing a child but needs must. 

He tries to call Crowley but he seems to be in trouble if what he meant by old friend is what Aziraphale figures it means. He had said something about Hell figuring out it was his fault. Aziraphale himself seems to be in trouble as well if Shadwell’s accusation of demon possession are in any way indicative of what he means to do. When he accidentally steps into the transportation portal and ends up in Heaven he realizes how bereft he is of Crowley’s ambient Love. It can’t reach to Heaven being the Love of a demon. 

He is quite definitely going to be in trouble for this, he thinks as he is already racing to the Earth without a body in order to possess a human. The Archangels are not going to like that once they hear. Another in a long list of what the Archangels don’t like about him _ , _ he thinks. He finds Crowley, somewhere. He isn’t quite sure where. Being on the ethereal plane he loses sight of the physical realm of Earth but he can sense Crowley’s overwhelming Love and a sorrow so deep it cuts right to Aziraphale’s bleeding heart. 

The pain in Crowley’s voice as he says he lost his best friend wrecks something in Aziraphale. His sympathetic nature taking hold, his empathy. “So sorry to hear it.” And he is. He recognizes that Crowley is talking about him and it might as well have been a Love confession for all the emotion put into it. But it isn’t and Aziraphale does not have to make a decision yet. Though there will be a decision to be made, he recognizes now, if the pain in Crowley’s voice  _ now _ breaks his heart. 

They make plans to meet at Tadfield Airbase and Aziraphale is pulled back into the ether to continue the search for a receptive body. After the apocalypse is over and their respective head offices are dealt with, Aziraphale knew the Archangels would not be pleased, they have a moment to breathe. They are in the back room of Aziraphale’s shop and Crowley makes the dreaded first move. 

“Angel, I’m glad you’re ok.” He starts. “I thought. I really thought…” He trails off, clears his throat and starts again. “I feared... that Hell had... gone after you... with...with Hellfire... at your bookshop. I really thought... I lost you forever.” He is nearly in tears his voice thick and broken.

“I know you did, Crowley. But I am here now.” Aziraphale pauses. He has a choice to make and it really is no choice at all. He had already chosen Crowley against Heaven and Hell. He may not be able to Love Crowley the same way but he did care deeply about him.  _ Philia, storge, ludus _ Aziraphale smiles at the remembrance,  _ agape _ on Aziraphale’s part and of course  _ eros _ on Crowley’s. There was plenty of love and affection between them. Maybe someday he could Love Crowley but he had kept him at arms length for so long he knew so little about him really. He knew he kept plants and loved his Bentley...and Aziraphale. “I’m not going anywhere.” And it’s the truth. And Crowley has such hope in his eyes, Aziraphale couldn’t let him down now, it would be so very cruel after all the hope he had given him to take it away now. Aziraphale reaches his hand out to Crowley and Crowley is desperate as he grabs ahold and brings it to his heart where it is pounding out of his chest and his eyes are tearing up. 

“Come here, my dear.” Aziraphale whispers and Crowley goes to his knees before Aziraphale’s chair, kneeling at his feet his hand still clutched in his hands as he brings Aziraphale’s hand to his forehead worshipping. 

“Angel,” And Crowley’s voice is broken beyond belief. “Angel.” And it’s a prayer.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale whispers back. He still doesn’t Love Crowley but he cares about him and that can be enough for now.

Once given permission, Crowley becomes, well, clingy is the best way to describe it. He clings to the angel’s hands and arms and wants to sit cuddled up next to him on the sofa in the backroom as he reads. He fetches Aziraphale’s tea and cocoa and sleeps with his head laying on Aziraphale’s lap. He doesn’t ask for more than the angel gives him, content in a way with every show of affection Aziraphale is willing to give him. And Aziraphale finds himself giving more than he thought he would be comfortable with. If Crowley is acts of service, Aziraphale is touch. He pets at Crowley’s hair and rubs his back and holds his hand and presses his forehead to the demon’s and places chaste kisses to his hands and cheeks. And Crowley soaks it up like the sun. 

Crowley doesn’t say the words for quite a while almost afraid to break the tentative peace they have going on. They are sitting in the sitting area of the flat above the bookshop that belongs to Aziraphale. He had hardly used it until after the Apocalypse-that-didn’t. Crowley taking up the space more than Aziraphale. Crowley has his head resting in Aziraphale’s lap again as the angel reads, his glasses, which he wears less and less around their shared living area, are sitting discarded on the coffee table.

“Angel,” Crowley sighed softly startling Aziraphale slightly as he had thought he was asleep. 

“Yes, my dear.” Aziraphale whispered back.

“I love you.” Crowley said earnestly. Opening his eyes to meet the angel’s soft gaze. 

“I know.” Aziraphale said softly almost sadly. Crowley seems to be waiting for something. “I care very deeply for you as well, my dear.” 

Crowley watches him a moment before closing his eyes again. “Just thought you ought to know.”

“I know. I feel you, you old serpent.” Aziraphale told him fondly running his hands through Crowley’s soft hair. “Angels feel Love, remember. And I feel you so strongly.”

“You’ve felt me?” Crowley squawks. 

Aziraphale sighs a laugh. “Yes I’ve felt you. I didn’t realize what it meant until recently. But I’ve felt you ever since The Garden.”

“The Garden?” Crowley whimpers. “And you just led me on that whole time?”

“I told you, I didn’t realize it was you I was feeling not until very recently. It wasn’t my intention to ‘lead you on’ as you so put it.” Aziraphale corrects him brushing hair off Crowley’s forehead with a soft smile. 

“So 6000 years I’ve been in love with you. How long for you?” Crowley asks eagerly.

“Oh...I don’t know really.” Aziraphale says gently. “I’ve cared for you for a long while, my dear. My affection for you started in Rome, I suppose, when I asked you to lunch at Petronius’ or maybe the Ark when you expressed such concern for the children and grew from there.”

Silence lapsed with Aziraphale neglecting his book to comb through Crowley’s hair softly. 

“Marry me?” Crowley asked gently almost in a daze. Aziraphale pauses in his ministrations and then resumes his soothing motions. 

“Marry you? In what way?” Aziraphale asked. “Which religion do you think can hold our vows? Or country? What power on Earth can bind us?”

“The first one. The very First Way. If-If you want to,” Crowley rushed to reassure the angel. The very First Way in which Humans were bound by Her. The first wedding. The first wedding night for all that it was the middle of the afternoon. 

Aziraphale hums thoughtfully. Did he want that with Crowley? Not necessarily. But why not bind themselves. He already knew he wasn’t going to leave Crowley, nor break his heart by telling him how little his own affections were in the face of Crowley’s great, never-ending Love. “I suppose we can marry, my dear.” He says soothingly. “But let’s make it special.” for you goes unsaid. Crowley would want it special for both of them. “Tell me what you want, Crowley, dear.”

“I want whatever you will give me.” He answers immediately and without hesitation. 

Aziraphale smiles. “And if I give you anything?”

“I’m happy with just you.” Crowley responds. 

“Why don’t you take a nap while I get everything ready for us,” Aziraphale offers with a small smile which Crowley returned with a beaming one of his own. Aziraphale gives a small tug to Crowley’s short hair and then gently lifts his head as he stands and replaces it where he had been sitting. With a small kiss to Crowley’s forehead, he moves off to get the bedroom in order. So far only Crowley has used the space for anything aside from the closet with all of Aziraphale’s past favorite clothing choices. 

The bed is rumpled and unmade but the room is clean and the dresser clear of detris. Crowley has always been very fastidious if less neurotic in his cleanliness than Aziraphale himself. So aside from a pair of silken pajamas that are neatly folded on the bedside table, the room is free of discarded clothing or trash. Aziraphale picks up the pajamas and moves them into the top drawer of the mostly empty dresser. He strips the bed the human way and miracles up a set of nice red silken sheets which he puts on instead. He pulls the shades on the windows and sets the room into a twilight darkness which is soon broken by the glow of dozens of electric candles glowing faintly- electric in deference to Crowley’s continued nightmares about the bookshop fire.

Aziraphale smiles sadly and looks down at himself and hums thoughtfully. It really is a lot of layers. He gingerly takes off his coat and waistcoat and hangs them up with the rest of his period pieces in the closet, removing his cufflinks he places them safely away in a ceramic bowl on the dresser. He nods to himself. He is ready for this. It will mean so much to Crowley to be wed like this. Rolling his sleeves up he steps out of the room to fetch Crowley. 

Crowley jumps up quickly from where he was laying nervously twiddling his thumbs, his fingers tap a staccato against his thighs now. “Aziraphale,” he starts and then looks at him again and blushes prettily. It’s been years since he has seen Aziraphale in anything other than his waistcoat and coat. His bared arms getting the best of him for a moment. He swallows thickly. “We don’t have to if you…”

“Hush, dear boy,” Aziraphale shushes him. “It’s alright.” He says stepping closer into Crowley’s space. He gingerly takes a hold of Crowley’s hands and guides him softly into the bedroom. 

“We haven’t even…” Crowley whispers and then sees the bedroom lit with candles, electric flames dancing and casting shadows on the walls, the bed turned down. He is at a loss for words for a moment taking in that Aziraphale had done this for him. “We haven’t even kissed yet.” He says softly.

“Then come here,” Aziraphale whispers and his hands tangle in Crowley’s hair and bring his head down to meet Aziraphale’s mouth awkwardly at first and then slotting perfectly into place. The kiss is chaste at first and then soon Crowley is whimpering as Aziraphale’s tongue seeks and is granted entrance to the demon’s mouth. 

When Aziraphale pulls back Crowley tries to follow for a moment before he backs away and opens his eyes. And when had they closed of their own volition? Crowley does not want to miss a second of this and his eyes betray him. 

Aziraphale smiles softly at him and turns him, sitting Crowley down at the edge of the bed and slotting himself between his slim thighs. With his hands cupping Crowley’s face, he kisses him again. 

Crowley’s hands find their way around Aziraphale’s generous waist and his fingers dig in to clutch at the angel’s shirt. “Angel,” He whispers against Aziraphale’s lips, a plea for what he isn’t sure, only that he wants whatever the angel is willing to give him.

“I’m here, dear boy.” Aziraphale whispers back, pushing Crowley to lie back in the soft silken sheets. The angel’s fingers find Crowley’s shirt buttons and he starts slowly releasing each with painstaking attention. Each button freed reveals more of Crowley’s svelte chest to the angel’s gaze.

Crowley’s hands clench at his sides aching to touch but his angel hadn’t given him permission to touch back yet. 

“It’s alright, Crowley. You can touch me.” Aziraphale whispers against his lips. Crowley gives a small cry and lets his hands come up to tangle in Aziraphale’s shirt and then to begin undoing the angel’s shirt buttons. His hands are nearly frantic for skin to skin contact and Aziraphale’s hands find his own and slow him down. “It’s alright. We have time, my dear. I’m not going anywhere.” He says soothingly. 

Aziraphale is soon crawling over the bed to kneel over the demon laying so beautifully against the red silk. Aziraphale’s breath catches at the look of adoration in Crowley’s eyes. Worshiping. Aziraphale pushes Crowley’s shirt from his frame and tosses it carelessly toward the dresser and helps Crowley to do the same to his own. Leaning down over the demon, Aziraphale trails open mouthed kisses over Crowley’s chest and up his bared neck to lay heated kisses against Crowley’s mouth. 

Aziraphale’s hands trail heated paths across Crowley’s flesh to settle at the fastening of his trousers. Crowley gives a whine of discontent at the way the hands stop their trails. “You want this, Crowley?” the angel asks.

“Yes. Please, angel. Please.” Crowley keens, his hips twitching into the hands above him. 

Aziraphale smiles at him as his hands slowly undo the fastenings under his hands and tug the tight material down over the thin hips they hug. Crowley arches to help get the material down over his thighs and to his knees and kick them the rest of the way off and into a pile at the foot of the bed. Aziraphale sits up and moves to take off Crowley’s shoes and socks placing delicate kisses to the arches of his feet and the insides of his ankles. Then removing his own shoes and socks swiftly.

Crowley reaches out his hand to beckon Aziraphale back to the bed. Aziraphale goes willingly and Crowley’s hands find their way to the angel’s trousers and slip them over generous hips and down over thick thighs and off the well-curved calves and onto the floor. 

Both now naked as the early days of the Garden, Crowley clings at Aziraphale again. His hands reaching and finding soft flesh to dig his fingers into at the angel’s sides and thighs. Aziraphale moans at the demon’s touch and his cock twitches at the sight of Crowley’s eager member standing to attention. 

“How do you want this, Crowley?” Aziraphale moans softly in the reverent silence of the dark room. 

“What?” Crowley asks dazed as Aziraphale’s thigh finds its way between his legs.

“How do you want this? Do you want me to take you or the other way round?” Aziraphale asks kissing his way down Crowley’s neck and mouthing at his clavicle. 

“I want what you want.”

“And I will give you anything.” Aziraphale tells him softly kissing his open lips. “Now what do you want to happen here tonight?” 

“Can we do it one way and then the other?”Crowley asks hesitantly.

“Of course we can, my dear.” Aziraphale answers with a smile. “How do you want it first?”

“I want you inside me, angel.” Crowley answers immediately. 

“My dear, I would be delighted.” Aziraphale responds as his hands travel down to grip at Crowley’s ass. His fingers find their way into Crowley’s ass with a thought and some lube. 

Crowley moans. “Fuck, angel.” He hisses at the intrusion but quickly relaxes as Aziraphale kisses him. His hands clenching in the bedsheets at the aborted desire to grab hold of his own slim cock and tug. 

Aziraphale takes his time in stretching Crowley slowly. His other hand travelling over Crowley’s body lightly and reaching up to pinch at his pebbled nipples. Crowley gives a short cry arching into the touch and thrusting his hips back onto Aziraphale’s fat fingers, his head tilting back into the bed. As the angel adds another finger into the demon’s willing body, he mouths at Crowley’s bared neck tasting salt and the musk of Crowley’s sweat.

Aziraphale removes his fingers and moves to line his cock up with Crowley’s hole. Pushing in gently, Aziraphale lets out a moan echoed by the demon below him. The angel pauses to pant heavily against Crowley’s neck before giving an experimental roll of his hips. 

Crowley gasps at the movement and clings tightly to the angel not letting him up for freer range of movement. Aziraphale rocks his hip, the movement sending frissons of pleasure up Crowley’s spine. 

“Az- Azira-ziraphale,” Crowley moans, wrapping his legs around Aziraphale’s hips and rocking up. He gives a strangled shout when the new angle hits something deep inside him. There is friction and heat and the sound of slick flesh sliding on slick flesh. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathes out his name as he sits up his hips snapping forward in barely controlled thrusts. His hands find their way around Crowley’s dripping cock and, grasping it in his fist, starts to stroke. Crowley’s eyes slip shut of their own accord and he tears his gaze open again to watch Aziraphale’s face, ruddy and slick with sweat. 

“Angel. angelangelangel…” Crowley chants coming undone beneath Aziraphale’s ministrations. His face a rictus of pleasure, mouth open and eyes wide. 

“That’s it, Crowley. Let go, my dear.” Aziraphale pants his hips stuttering and hand moving in a blur over Crowley’s cock. 

Crowley comes with a shout of, “Angel,” his seed coating his stomach in white.

Aziraphale keeps thrusting through the aftershocks but as Crowley whimpers and pulls away he lets his member slip out of the demon’s loose body with a soft squelch. Crowley lets out a whine of disappointment but Aziraphale kisses him quiet again and lays down panting next to the blissed out demon. 

Crowley turns his head to see Aziraphale watching him carefully. He gives a smile before leaning over to kiss the angel’s lips. Propping himself up on his side, Crowley’s hands brush down Aziraphale’s chest and belly dancing nonsense patterns into his skin. “You didn’t come?” He asks softly.

“I didn’t.” Aziraphale admits unconcernedly. “You said you wanted it both ways tonight. I’ll have my turn.” The angel says at Crowley’s creased brow and frowning face. 

“Still. I want you to feel good, Aziraphale. Do you not enjoy this?” Crowley asks.

“What makes you think I didn’t enjoy it, my dear? I very much did so. I just didn’t come from it. I promise I enjoyed it, dear.” Aziraphale assures him. 

Crowley just hums as he leans down to kiss the angel and his hand finds Aziraphale’s cock and strokes, drawing a moan from the angel. Crowley spends his time leisurely kissing Aziraphale and alternating between stroking his cock and thighs until the angel is panting and moaning. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale moans. “Please.” 

And Crowley takes mercy on the angel, his hand grasping firmly at the angels fat cock and stroking firmly twisting on the upstroke. “Can I?” Crowley asks against Aziraphale’s lips.

Aziraphale just spreads his legs in an obscene tableau giving Crowley permission and room to kneel between his thick thighs with his own slim hips. Crowley takes the invitation and settles himself between the angel’s legs. Crowley presses a messy kiss to Aziraphale’s lips before smirking and moving lower. He kisses his way down the angel’s chest with a smirk before pausing with his mouth above Aziraphale’s cock. Meeting the angel’s eyes, Crowley lets his hot breath ghost past the head of the angel’s member before giving the tip a quick lick. 

Aziraphale’s eyes are blown wide as he watches Crowley slowly lower his mouth onto Aziraphale’s hard and waiting prick. Crowley takes his time licking, sucking, and bobbing his head up and down on the angel’s cock and making Aziraphale groan. Removing his mouth with a wet pop, he replaces his mouth with his hand and strokes with his other he wipes his mouth free of the saliva and precome that gathers on his chin. His hand pauses on Aziraphale’s cock to slip further behind. Slowly he inserts a slim finger into the angel’s ass. 

Aziraphale groans, letting his head drop back against the bed. “That’s perfect, dear.” He moans as Crowley pushes his fingers deeper into Aziraphale’s welcoming body. “Just like that.”

Crowley smirks and kisses the angel’s panting lips. “Angel. I love you.” Crowley whispers against Aziraphale’s open mouth.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale moans as Crowley removes his fingers and replaces them with the blunt head of his cock. “Crowley, please.”

“Yes, Angel.” Crowley smirks as he pushes into the willing body beneath him. Aziraphale moans again at the feel of Crowley inside of him. He knew this was meant to be pleasurable but it’s better than he imagined it, when he let himself imagine it. Crowley pauses a moment before he pulls almost all the way out and thrusts back in forcefully. Aziraphale’s breath leaves him in a rush at the feel of Crowley moving inside of him.

“Crowley. More. Please.” Aziraphale begs as Crowley moves slowly but forcefully within him. 

Crowley smiles down at him as his pace picks up. He presses Aziraphale’s thighs apart and drives himself deeper into the angel’s body, hooking the thick thighs over his shoulders he continues to pound into the angel with forceful rolls of his hips. His hand finds its way around the angel’s member and strokes in time with his thrusts. 

The angel moans and his hips give an aborted twitch trying to rise up into the hand around him. Aziraphale writhes on the bed as Crowley’s cock hits something special inside him that causes his toes to curl and his spine to arch. His hips give stuttered thrusts back onto the long prick inside of him and forward into the hand around his cock before he finds himself coming with a drawn out moan. 

Crowley continues his thrusts for several more moments before he is coming once again at the lovely blissed out look on the angel’s face. He soon pulls out and drops to the side of the angel laying in the bed. He turns his head to face the angel and smiles turning onto his side to cuddle up to the angel. Aziaphale’s arm find its way curled around the demon pulling him into his arms more tightly.

“I really do love you, Aziraphale, husband.” Crowley says into the skin of Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“I care about you as well, Crowley, husband.” Aziraphale says back tiredly.

“But you don’t love me.” Crowley says sadly and Aziraphale freezes. “Or you would say the words.”

Aziraphale pulls away only enough to look down at Crowley. “My dear,” he starts but Crowley interrupts him.

“Don’t. Don’t try to lie. You don’t. But you married me anyway. Why?” Crowley asks his voice thick and arms tight around Aziraphale’s chest. 

“I do care for you just not in the way you want. But I chose you Crowley and it’s not a hardship to let you have this. I do want you to be happy.” Aziraphale tells him truthfully. “I may come to Love you, if given time. I certainly do feel some love for you just not _eros _like you do. I kept you at arms length for so long, Crowley. I’m not sure how to let myself feel anything more for you.”

“Do you want to love me?” Crowley asks softly.

Aziraphale pauses and gives that the thought is deserves. He has already married Crowley, chosen him above both Heaven and Hell, tied himself to him for the rest of eternity. Does he want to Love Crowley? “Yes. Yes I would love to Love you with the depth and dedication that you Love me. Can that be enough for you? I would hate to lose you over this, Crowley.”

Crowley sniffles. “Yes. That can be enough.” He buries his face into Aziraphale’s neck and the angel feels hot tears burning into his flesh. 

Aziraphale brings his arms up to hold Crowley tightly to his side and rests his own tear-streaked face against Crowley’s hair. “I’m so sorry, dear boy. You deserve to be Loved as deeply as you yourself Love. I’ll give you as much as I can.”

Crowley says nothing but clings as he has since the Apocalypse-that-couldn’t his leg thrown over Aziraphale’s waist and his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, his face tucked deeply into Aziraphale’s neck. 

Soon tears dry and life continues. Crowley still clings though every so often he hesitates and Aziraphale finds he hates that moment of hesitation and finds himself reaching out himself to Crowley to stop those moments of doubt. Aziraphale finds himself petting at Crowley more often. He pets and croons and holds his hands as he eats and pulls Crowley into his lap more often than not. They even renew their wedding several times a week. Aziraphale has to instigate the first several weeks before Crowley was brave enough to understand that Aziraphale, despite not desiring it for himself, wanted it for Crowley. 

Years pass in that manner and it is a decade after the failed Apocalypse that Aziraphale lays awake one night after they had once again joined together with Crowley in his arms and realizes he can’t imagine life without him in his arms. He is struck with a profound desire to kiss the demon and his chest aches with not seeing Crowley’s eyes. His arms tighten and tears spring to his eyes as he cries quietly in the night. 

It should have been obvious. He thinks. It is always obvious in hindsight. It had always been Crowley. Crowley he turned to. Crowley he hoped for. Crowley he wanted to spend his time with. And he had fallen so easily into their relationship. _Philia, storge, ludus, agape, _and _eros._ _Eros_ the only one he has been missing. But now...oh but now he aches with his Love for the demon in his arms and it hurts. It hurts to think of all the time that Crowley had felt this alone. His need to take the demon into himself and shield him from harm is overpowering and it takes his breath away. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says into the stillness of the night, “Crowley, I love you.” And Crowley may be asleep but he turns into Aziraphale at the sound of his voice. Aziraphale moves down to kiss at Crowley’s forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his lips. He kisses Crowley as if his life depends on it and Crowley rouses from his sleep to kiss him back. When Aziraphale pulls back, Crowley follows for a moment before opening languid eyes to meet Aziraphale’s gaze. 

“Angel?” He asks sleepily.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says and it’s a prayer. “Crowley, I  _ love _ you.” He whispers his eyes boring into Crowley’s. “I love you.” He repeats because it must be said. And with every iteration the feeling in his chest grows and there are tears streaming down his cheeks. “I love you.” And he will repeat it until the sun ceases to shine, until the stars burn out, until Crowley asks him to stop. But by the way that Crowley is staring at him with so much Love shining forth from his own eyes, he never will. 

“I love you.” It is said together as both prayer and benediction. 


End file.
